


1895

by ILLEGAILE



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drinking, Drugs, Kimi's Umbrella, M/M, Military, Mycroft!Kimi, Or at least angst that turned into a Sherlock AU, Sherlock AU, Sherlock!Nico, Ugh I hate me, Watson!Lewis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILLEGAILE/pseuds/ILLEGAILE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing Lewis was sure of it was that he was not by any means a genius. </p>
<p>[But, if anything, he knows what it's like to be infatuated with one.]</p>
<p>{Sherlock AU}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1895

**Author's Note:**

> I did NOT mean for this to become a Sherlock AU. I was literally angsting about school (because the mere mention of school makes me want to off myself nowadays) and then this happened. It was supposed to be Nico stopping Lewis from taking drugs but then it became Kimi, and Kimi became a Mycroft. I would say sorry but this got more interesting after Kimi became Mycroft. So yes, no regrets. This might just turn multi-chapter. Hoo boy, as if I didn't have enough WIPs already.

 

> Here dwell together still two men of note  
> Who never lived and so can never die:  
> How very near they seem, yet how remote  
> That age before the world went all awry.  
> But still the game's afoot for those with ears  
> Attuned to catch the distant view-halloo:  
> England is England yet, for all our fears—  
> Only those things the heart believes are true.  
>   
> A yellow fog swirls past the window-pane  
> As night descends upon this fabled street:  
> A lonely hansom splashes through the rain,  
> The ghostly gas lamps fail at twenty feet.  
> Here, though the world explode, these two survive,  
> And it is always _eighteen ninety-five_.
> 
> \- **221B** by _Vincent Starett_

 

If there was one thing Lewis was sure of it was that he was not by any means a genius.

He is acquainted with the possibility of being great, of people with minds that looked and went farther than that of the norm. He knows the great founders and scientists and artists, studied them, seen what they have accomplished. He’s marveled at the beauty of tragic Da Vinci, read about the emphatic intellect of Einstein, and even delved into the morbid lover of crime that was Holmes.

But those were the stories of people that mattered. They had talent, they had means and courage and goals.

Lewis didn’t even know what bloody course he was going to take.

He didn’t have a goal, or specific talents besides a talent for getting absolutely smashing drunk on the evenings his mates would go out for a score. His life was utterly and mind-blowingly dull in every sense of the word. Lewis was not meant for greatness.

In short, he wasn’t Nico bloody Rosberg, golden-haired golden child of their year and top of the bloody class with his bloody wealth and his bloody perfect grades.

So, why then was he sitting in an alley hesitating with the syringe over the soft skin inside of his elbow?

And, inside the syringe? It didn’t take a genius to know it was a hit of cocaine, passed to him by a friend of a friend of a friend in exchange for a sloppy snog behind a Wendy’s.

Which brings us to the here and now.

 

“You don’t want to do that.” A low, mutter voice said as a slighter form approached him. His hair was mussed from what looked like the soft blow of the wind. His shirt and pants though casual still managed to look posh on his lean form. “Contrary to popular belief, there _are_ better ways to pass the time.”

Lewis raised a brow at him, distancing the needle from his darkened skin. “Do I know you?” he couldn’t help but ask, despite the rather peculiar situation the boy had found him in.

The blonde shrugged. “Probably not,” he smirked, sounding more amused than anything. “You might know my brother. He’s less… shy.”

Lewis blinked owlishly at him, recognizing the accent as slightly Scandinavian. “You’re the Iceman.”

“There you go.” Kimi rolled his bright and slightly feverish blue eyes. “Was wondering what you were doing in my club.”

“Your-” Lewis squinted at his surroundings and through the haze of neon lights did recognize the building across the street as Kimi’s club. How had he gotten there?

Kimi sighed, clearly disappointed in Lewis’ illiteracy. “Looks like we will have to talk on the way back. Don’t worry, I won’t tell about this to anyone. Would not want your parents to find out you tried to stop your heart before they’ve told you they’ve enrolled you in Medical School.”

Lewis tensed under Kimi’s commanding bulk while the Finn hauled Lewis into the back of a non-descript black car. “What?”

Kimi shut the door of the car, signaling for his driver to pull away from the place. Lewis realized too late that Kimi had disposed of the syringe.

Lewis must be _hammered_.

“You don’t want to be in medical school” Kimi looked him up and down, accessing. “But you are gifted in caring for people who aren’t yourself.”

Lewis snorted out a laugh. “Gifted my arse.”

“Military it is, then”

For the second time that night, Lewis tensed. “Beg pardon?”

Kimi rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face. “Why? Why him? Why does he have to fancy an idiot?” he muttered before turning a sharp look to Lewis. “Military, it is clear you want to enlist but you hadn’t thought it a possibility. Hadn’t thought you would be good for it, or good at anything for that matter. So, you tried to off yourself.”

The hit of the alcohol and the bluntness of Kimi Matias Raikkonen slammed into him with the force of a brick wall. “I’m _not_ good at anything.”

Kimi huffed, growing weary of this discussion. “Not if my brother has anything to say about it.”

Lewis tilted his head at him, not seeing where this conversation was going. Or why Kimi was _helping him_. Or more importantly-

“What’s Nico Rosberg got to do with this?” he asked and Kimi relaxed into the seat.

“Finally, common sense. Took longer than I thought but you got there. Good for you.” Kimi snarked which Lewis handily ignored having taken snark from his older brother for far too long.

“Ha-fucking-ha, Raikkonen. Get to the point.” Lewis retorted, but curiosity bloomed under the surface at the mention of Kimi’s younger brother.

Kimi’s eyes went suddenly serious, like the quiet before a bomb hits the surface of a battlefield. “He cares for you. Irrationally. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. And, it may be infatuation, but I wanted to see what he sees.”

He leaned closer to Lewis. “I need to know what he knows.”

Lewis blinked up at him, confused, and Kimi took this as a sign to back off.

“As of now, you are yet too young to see what he knows you could be. You’re likely to forget this entire conversation by tomorrow so I’m going to say this once. I’m here to help you.” He handed Lewis papers seemingly from thin air. “Enlist.”

The car had stopped and Lewis let himself out with the papers in his hand and the syringe gone from the other standing in front of his house in the more dangerous part of town. “What makes you think I want your help, Raikkonen?” he asked, whirling around to face the enigmatic older man who only regarded him with another roll of his blue eyes.

“You are not what you think you are, Hamilton.” Kimi raised a brow at him. “And it’s time you figured that out for yourself.”

 

The next time he saw Kimi Raikkonen, he was at the station moments before Lewis was to be shipped out.

“Where are you stationed, Hamilton?” he said, no nonsense whatsoever in his dark suit and shades miles different from the jeans and shirt he’d seen him in almost a year ago.

“I thought you’d know that already.” He smirked, accepting Kimi’s apparent omnipotence.

“Maybe I wanted you to tell me yourself.” Kimi rolled his eyes, the gesture more comforting than scary now that Lewis knew why Kimi was so exasperated. “And, I am the secret service. Not _God_.”

“Afganistan” Lewis said with a nod of the head that stated he sincerely doubted Kimi was _just_ the secret service. “And Nico?”

“Eton,” Kimi groaned at the idea. “I will be glad when he’s finished.”

“You’ll miss him.”

“I will be glad if he doesn’t blow anything up.”

Lewis laughed, patting Kimi on the back. “I’ll see about that when I get back.”

Kimi raised a brow at him and held out a hand to take his umbrella from a nearby lady dressed in a prim black suit. Her name tag read ‘Minttu’. “Do try to get back in one piece, Hamilton.” _For Nico_.

Lewis watched him walk away, finding himself grinning at the sense of purpose driving him forward. But he was not ready yet, he still had a bit more to do before he was ready to stand next to Nico Rosberg.

“Alright, Hamilton.” He swung his duffel bag onto his shoulder and stepped onto the train. “Time for an adventure.”


End file.
